


Once Upon a Brat

by accidental-mormon (crazyhomoinspace)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ella Enchanted Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bedtime Stories, Katsudon Bang 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10474590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyhomoinspace/pseuds/accidental-mormon
Summary: Tasked with telling Victor and Yuuri’s child a bedtime story, Yuri tells the tale of a young man who has to listen to every command given to him. [fic by cait, art by nas]





	

**Author's Note:**

> art was done by aredblush @ tumblr!
> 
> this work was for the katsudon minibang! i hope everyone enjoys it! 
> 
> holy crap, i wrote something (fairly) sfw!

It was eight o'clock on a Tuesday night. Was that a weird time to have a date night? Absolutely. Was that the time Victor and his sweet little bowl of katsudon had decided to go out to dinner? You bet. Did it not only obliterate the plans Yuri Plisetsky had to be fucked within an inch of his life by his tall, dark, and patient Kazakh lover, but mean that Yuri had to babysit a small child?  
  


Check, and check.  
  


Yuri really didn't mind watching Victor and Yuuri's kid. Katsuro was a good boy-- even if his name was Victor-indulgent and sounded like food. He was almost cute enough for Yuri to ask Otabek if they could adopt one of their own.  
  


Almost.  
  


"Be good for Uncle Yurio!" Yuuri bid his son goodbye, letting Victor give the child a kiss on the forehead before putting him down.  
  


"Thank you for this, Yurio," Victor smiled. "We packed everything he'll need."  
  


Yuri shrugged. "I would have broken into your apartment for a toothbrush if you had forgotten it."  
  


"Comforting." Victor gave his fakest smile before patting the boy on the head. "We'll be back first thing in the morning!"  
  


Alone with a child, with Otabek out buying groceries, Yuri was out of his depth. At five, Katsuro was too young to really be able to entertain himself, but he was also too old to just bounce on his lap while they watched a cartoon that Yuri had to pretend he wasn't interested in.  
  


Paw Patrol had some good storylines, just saying.  
  


"...What do you wanna do?" Yuri asked, crouching down to the adopted spawn of Victor Nikiforov's level.  
  


The boy hesitated. "Ummm... daddy and papa tell really good stories." He dug his foot into the hardwood floor. "Can you tell me a story?"  
  


Yuri clicked his tongue. So Victor thought he was better than him at something, huh? Well, Yuri was going to tell the kid a story so damn good that he'd never want to hear another word out of Victor's stupid mouth. It was a matter of principle at that point.  
  


"Yeah. Come on. Want some snacks?" he asked, hand on his hip.  
  


"...Can I have popcorn?"  
  


"You bet your ass." He paused. "I mean, yeah, sure." He flashed the kid a thumbs up, 'please don't tell your dads I said ass at you' in his eyes.  
  


"...But kid, you dream too small."

  
Yuri snuggled up with Katsuro in the bed he shared with Otabek, the boy cuddling a stuffed lion in one arm, reaching for the giant bowl of popcorn with the other.. and a giant box of pizza sat at their feet.  
  


"Get ready. Because this is about to become your favourite story ever."

 

* * *

 

A long, long time ago, in a kingdom far, far away, a beautiful baby boy was born. But he was no ordinary baby. No. This blonde haired, green eyed angel had grown into the most petulant, obnoxious toddler on the planet.  
  


Not once did the boy do as told. 'Eat your breakfast!' The bottle hit the wall. 'Be a good boy and take a nap.' He stayed awake out of sheer spite. 'For the love of all that is good and sacred, put on pants!' Nope. That boy ran through the house free and naked as the day he was born.  
  


“What to do?” fretted the boy’s grandfather. The boy’s father had left before his birth, and his heartbroken mother had left him in the care of her father, a well-to-do but aging farmer by the name of Nikolai Plisetsky. “What to do with my sweet Yuri?”  
  


Nikolai Plisetsky was good to his grandson. He fed him, bathed him, and clothed him-- when he would allow-- despite his deplorable attitude. It must have been something that he'd inherited from his no-good father, as Nikolai's daughter most definitely ate her breakfast and kept her blouse on in public. He tried everything to encourage good behavior. He tried punishing him when he misbehaved, which only made the small child even more creative, and eerily sneaky. He rewarded good behavior, which led to tantrums when he didn't get a treat. Nothing was working. Nikolai was at wit's end.  
  


So what did every guardian resort to when fed up with their child and worn down to the very last thread?  
  


Witchcraft, of course!  
  


Victor was the most famous Good Fairy in all of the land.  Nikolai had considering hiring Yakov, the Not-So-Good Fairy, but he was away on a prior engagement. Well, he could give the Good Fairy a try.  
  


"Can you cure him? Can you make him obedient?"  
  


Victor whistled as he watched the child blatantly pour a jar of milk out on the floor. "Well, I can make him listen, but I can't curb his attitude. That, you're stuck with." Long, almost glowing silver hair framed ethereal blue eyes. Stepping barefoot from the dairy-soaked floor, he plucked two-year old Yuri Plisetsky up off of the ground and delivered two light smacks to his rear end, each strike sparking with magic like a struck match. The child looked bewildered. Through all of his tantrums and extravagant displays of naughtiness, not a single person had thought to spank him.  
  


"You will forever be obedient," he purred, and set him on the ground. "Now. Clean up that milk, brat."  
  


As if compelled by an uncontrollable, independent whim, Yuri toddled off to the kitchen, pulling a rag off of the table and tossing it over the mess. Well, at least it was an attempt.  
  


"How amazing!" Nikolai cried. "How will I ever thank you, Victor?"  
  


Victor held his hand up. "Don't thank me just yet. As I said, Yuri will retain his... ah.. disagreeable attitude." He watched as Yuri slid the rag around with his foot, more spreading the mess than cleaning it up.  
  


"He will listen to every command he is given. Every single one. So pick carefully. You have the power to tell him to go to his room, but also to ask him to lie, cheat, swindle, and kill. Choose his company wisely."  
  


"Nobody will know about this!" Nikolai agreed. The results would be disastrous should anyone find out that Yuri absolutely had to listen to their commands. He wouldn't allow his dear grandson to become a scapegoat for a crime, or worse, a criminal himself.  
  


As Victor stepped over the threshold, pocket a little bit heavier than when he entered, Nikolai stopped him with a call of his name.  
  


"Yes?"  
  


"And what if we should want to lift the spell?"  
  


Victor tapped his lips. "Have him come to me the year he turns eighteen. When he becomes his own man, then I could release the hold the magic has on him. Until then?" He leaned inside so that he could see Yuri.  
  


"Be good."  
  


The child sat where he stood, and fell over like a flipped turtle.

* * *

 

Being a teenager was hard. Being a teenager was harder when you had to listen to every damn command given. But Yuri Plisetsky was smart, and he knew that there was almost always a way to misinterpret something.  
  


"Come here, Yuri."  
  


Oh, he came alright. He walked right up to his grandfather. Right up to him... and right past him.  
  


Nobody had told him to stop.  
  


The intent behind the commands often had more control over him than the commands themselves. If he could scoot by on the most literal interpretation of the order, he did so.  
  


"Yura, get ready! We have to go to market!" Nikolai cried, working his arthritic arms into his jacket. Yuri descended the staircase in one of his mother's old dresses. Not even a flattering one.  
  


Nikolai smacked his forehead.  
  


"What?" Yuri asked, bunching up the skirt. "I do what I'm told. You told me to put on clothes. You could have been more specific."  
  


"Yurachka," came the growl. "Change out of that dress and put on clothing that is appropriate for a boy going to the market."  
  


"See? Was that really so hard?" Yuri turned on the staircase, golden hair bouncing as he returned to his bedroom to change.  
  


If nothing else, Yuri Plisetsky had grown into an attractive young man. His hair had always been long, thick, and soft as silk, but as he approached his eighteenth birthday, the locks fell between his shoulder blades with a soft curl at the end. He often braided the strands by his temples, securing them behind his head to keep them from hanging in his big, expressive green eyes. With his full eyelashes, pouty lips, and a slender frame, he was the envy of even some of the young women in the village. To that, all he could do was scoff. He couldn't help his genetics. He couldn't help that he was drop-dead gorgeous, goddammit..  
  


..and he couldn't stop people from pointing it out.  
  


"Looking good, Yura," purred Chris, the village lecher.  
  


Yuri gave him the finger. "Go fuck yourself, Giacometti."  
  


Sometimes he really wished that the curse was just human nature and worked on everybody. He would have loved to see how Chris managed to go fuck himself.  
  


...On second thought, he was good.  
  


Not that Chris knew about the curse. Nobody did, save for himself and his grandfather. It was drilled into him ever since he could remember-- 'You cannot hide it, but you cannot reveal it.' He could only imagine what dumbasses like Chris would do with the knowledge.  
  


"Aw, I'm hurt, Yura. Give me a smile?"  
  


Yuri flashed a smirk.  
  


"There. Happy?"  
  


"I guess." Chris blinked.  
  


Yuri bounced away, wielding a basket in his hand and a knife in his boot. He was armed wherever he went-- his grandfather had once told him to 'be careful,' and he was going to interpret that how he saw fit. Most people skipped or meandered or wandered or even just walked to the market. Not Yuri. His gait could be best described as the bastard child of a trudge and a stomp... with just a little bit of waddle thrown in. See, Yuri didn't like to go to the market. He was never given enough money to buy anything he wanted. The one time his grandfather had kindly offered 'get something you like, Yurachka,' he came back with no food, but a cape and a hood lined in black rabbit's fur, the outside printed in leopard print.  
  


He was not to be trusted with money.  
  


Regardless, he made his way to the market, knowing that his grandfather was far too frail to complete the journey and carry any goods. Nikolai had taught him how to select the ripest fruits and the freshest vegetables. He knew what spoiled milk smelled like, and he knew what the best cuts of meat were, even if they didn't always get to afford the luxury of eating meat.  
  


"How much for the rabbit?" Yuri asked the merchant, hand on his hip.  
  


"Ten."  
  


"Ten?! Are you out of your goddamned mind?" He'd been given only forty to last the week, and he hadn't bought anything yet. "I'll give you three."  
  


"Give me five."  
  


Yuri grumbled, forking over the coins and snatching the package of rabbit meat. "It was worth three," he defended.  
  


His shopping trip was just about over when he caught sight of familiar red hair. Uh oh.  
  


Nobody knew about the curse. Not in an official capacity, at least. Nobody knew that he had to do what they said... just that he would. Nobody in the village was clever enough to make that connection. They rationalized his eagerness to agree to something by figuring that, in his heart of hearts, Yuri was just a sweet little kitty who wanted to make his friends happy.  
  


No, fuck that. Yuri was a fierce tiger, and he would eat the faces off of everyone in the village if given the chance.  
  


"Yuri!" The red-haired girl cried and waved at him. Well, there went his plan of leaving unnoticed.  
  


"Hey, Mila," he deadpanned. "I'm headed home."  
  


The girl ran over and peeked inside of his basket. "Oh, what do you have in here?" she asked. "Rabbit, some cabbage, some bread... milk.. carrots, beets.. Yuri, this is so boring!" she cried. "Didn't you see the man selling jewelry?"  
  


Yuri rolled his eyes. Of course he saw. He saw, he window shopped, he cried a little on the inside over some gold necklaces that he saw. That didn't mean that he could afford any of it.  
  


"Yeah? Gold is super affordable on my budget," he rolled his eyes.  
  


Mila leaned forward. "So? Who cares how much you have in your wallet. Steal something!"  
  


Aw, fuck.  
  


Being told to smile, or to do the dishes, or to put on sensible and appropriate clothing was one thing. It was shit like this that drove him insane, and would likely end up getting him taken down with fire and pitchforks down the line. Yuri knew that she wasn't serious. She would never steal, and would never ask him to steal.  
  


Except, she did.  
  


He kept it small and inexpensive. It was a gold chain adorned with a huge purple fire opal. He took it quickly and easily, while the merchant was busy with another customer. He pocketed the accessory and ran. He supported the basket with a hand as he moved quickly and easily through the crowd. He'd done well for himself! Nobody was even making a fuss as he broke away from the market and headed down the trail back home.  
  


"I'm back!" he cried, placing the basket on the dining table as he entered, wiping the sweat off of his brow. He didn't like the stress that came with shoplifting. He always feared--  
  


Three knocks on the door--  
  


That.  
  


Yuri scrambled up the stairs and tucked himself in his room as his grandfather opened the door. It was difficult, but if he concentrated and just opened his door, just a little bit, he could make out what they were saying.  
  


"Not my Yurachka!" Nikolai stated firmly.  
  


"There were three witnesses. We know he stole it."  
  


"This isn't the first time, either. We know what a menace he is, Nikolai. We'll lock him up, take him off your hands.." Yuri's heart sank. He knew what they were talking about. He wasn't always the most popular or agreeable boy in the village.  
  


A fist slammed against the table. "He is my grandson!" he cried. "He is my grandson, and he's seventeen years old." A short fit of coughing erupted from the older man, and Yuri damn near flew down the stairs to beat every single one of the intruders to pulp.  
  


"I'll pay. Take what you need from the pouch hanging on the mantle and get out of my home."  
  


Yuri slinked out of his bedroom, but was unable to bring himself to go downstairs and look his grandfather in the eye. He toyed with the necklace in his hand, rubbing over the large, smooth stone with his thumb. He sat on the stairs, thinking, contemplating on what he could do.  
  


He needed to break the spell.  
  


He'd been so engrossed in thought that he hadn't noticed the sound of his grandfather's cane on the rickety wood of the staircase.  
  


"Yurachka."  
  


Yuri wiped his eyes quickly. He looked up, expression small and almost apologetic-- unheard of for that fierce little tiger cub.  
  


"I want the curse gone."  
  


Nikolai nodded slowly. "It serves its purp--"  
  


"You think I wanted to steal?" Yuri asked, standing and backing his way into the hallway. "You think I wanted to take this?" He held up the necklace and looked at it briefly. "Okay, it's cool, but that's not my point." He huffed, shoving the jewelry back into his pocket.  
  


"It wasn't even a good command." He crossed his arms. "It was the most half-assed order in the world, and I still had to follow it." He turned away, raising his arms.  
  


"I'm done. I'm not doing it anymore. It's not fair. I'll be turning eighteen in a week. I'm going to find Victor, and I'm going to get this goddamn curse reversed."  
  


Nikolai had always known that this day would come. Yuri was such a free spirit, he knew that he wouldn't be contained for very long. He gave a great, heaving sigh, and placed both hands on his grandson's shoulders.  
  


"Victor lives many villages over, in little St. Petersburg. He traveled a long way to place that spell on you," he explained. "You should arrive on your eighteenth birthday if you leave now." He began to make his way down the stairs, holding the railing and his cane.

 

* * *

 

Yuri was well dressed for the occasion. He wore a loose, old linen shirt, secured with a purple lace-up vest. His trousers were black and almost ragged. The leopard print hood he'd purchased with his grandfather's money was secured around his neck, and the necklace he had stolen hung to his breastbone. His shoes were comfortable, yet fashionable, and he was ready to take a hike over mountains and rivers and ditches and whatever other surprises the terrain was sure to have in store for him.  
  


Nikolai slid a bag over his shoulder. "In here is food enough for the trip there, as well as the trip home. There's a bottle for water." He gave his grandson a hug. "You better get going. Be careful, and you have fun, Yurachka!"  
  


Obeying the command. Yuri walked-- not ran-- out of the house. He did, however, give a little skip before he was too far away for his grandfather to see. There. That was him 'having fun.' He had to obey the commands, but not with any real effort.  
  


Yuri wasn't far down the road until he heard a familiar voice calling his name. It wasn't his grandfather, Nikolai would never have caught up. It wasn't Chris, it wasn't Mila... it was his best friend, a kind-hearted Fairy-in-training named Yuuri.  
  


Yeah, it led to mix-ups all of the time. It had even led to people holding the belief that Yuri was a fairy, and that he was going to curse all of the village. It wasn't far from what he would do, if he did, in fact, possess magic.  
  


Yuuri was a handsome young fairy, chubby in the cheeks and just a little bit around the middle. His black hair was shiny, and his almond-shaped eyes were wide and expressive. Everybody could tell he was a fairy, from the way he held himself, to the way he laughed, to the twinkle in those brown eyes. Magic was something that could be felt, good or bad, and Yuuri glowed with the warmth of good magic. He even dressed beautifully, in flowing garments that Yuri noticed hid some of his chubbiness.  
  


"Where are you going?" Yuuri asked. "I've never seen you go this way before."  
  


"I'm going to see Victor," Yuri stated matter-of-factly. Yuuri lit up like it was Christmas morning.  
  


"Can I come?" he asked. "Oh, I've always wanted to meet Victor! He's the Good Fairy that I want to become!" Victor was a famous fairy, and Yuuri had talked about how he always wanted to meet him, to ask him questions, to practice magic beside him.  
  


Yuri shrugged. "I guess.."  
  


Despite his lukewarm answer, Yuri was relieved to have company. It was going to be a long trip. And when he had said that not a soul knew about his curse, he might have been lying. He knew, his grandfather knew, and Yuuri knew. After all, he was a fairy. He could smell the magic left behind by Victor, or whatever. There was some complicated answer to it, but all Yuri cared about was the fact that Yuuri knew. He was someone he could trust, though, as even with complete understanding of the magic, he didn't take any kind of advantage. He had hoped, even, that Yuuri would have been able to remove the curse himself, being in the same kind of magical family as Victor was. Alas, it was too strong and too complicated for Yuuri to figure out.  
  


"I can't believe we're going to see Victor! Are you excited to cure your-- oh, you know," Yuuri gestured.  
  


Yuri muttered to himself. "Keep it in your pants. And excited isn't the right word. I'm done with this bullshit."  


* * *

It was becoming quite clear to Yuri as they spent the entire day hiking along that Yuuri wasn't prepared for the trip. He hadn't wanted to delay Yuri's travels, and hadn't thought to get lunch before the two ran into one another. So, hearing the sound of Yuuri's stomach rumbling toward nightfall, Yuri proposed that they rest for the night. They broke free from the trail and headed into the woods, settling down against the biggest oak tree that Yuri had ever seen in his life.  
  


The pair feasted first on the meat that Nikolai had packed for Yuri. It had been meant to last a couple of days, but there were extenuating circumstances. He hadn't exactly planned on having a companion. Besides, he was pretty sure that Yuuri knew how to hunt, or pick edible grass, or something of that nature. He was a fairy, he had to be good for something!  
  


"What are you going to do when you meet Victor?" Yuuri asked, taking off the coat he wore and draping it over his body, head propped up on the oak tree.  
  


Yuri shrugged, lying down with his pack under his head. "Probably knock him out for thinking this was a good idea," he grumbled.  
  


"What?" Yuuri cried. "Oh, Yuri!" He paused. "Just don't hit him in the face... I hear he's very handsome."  
  


Well, there went that plan. Yuri grumbled and shut his eyes, wanting to sleep and forget about the stupid curse, if only for a little while. It was exhausting. Nobody knew the struggle of having to listen to every command directed at you, and the energy it took to deflect those stupid orders into something less awful.  
  


Speaking of awful...  
  


Yuri was jostled awake by the feeling of the pack he'd been using as a pillow being ripped out from under his head. He sat up, and would have climbed the tree if he'd been able to get purchase. His back arched as a knife rested under his chin.  
  


"Yuri! Help!" Yuuri cried. He was tied up, three strange men trying to load him up onto a horse. The fourth had decided to try to steal what he could from the pair.  
  


Duh!  
  


Yuri had completely forgotten that fairies were so vulnerable outside of the boundaries of their village. Fairies were valuable and useful, casting charms of wealth, beauty, talent, and things that were nowhere near appropriate to mention in a children's story.  
  


Snapping to action, he slapped the knife out of his shocked would-be-assailant's hand. He kicked him straight in the nuts as he reached out for his weapon, and Yuri took the knife from the ground. He ran over, intent on cutting Yuuri's bonds and chasing the burglars and kidnappers away. But Yuri was only so tall, he was only so strong, and he was only so intimidating.  
  


"Let him go," he snarled, looking about as angry as an inconvenienced kitten.  
  


"Yeah?" one of the men laughed. "Try and stop us!"  
  


Well, they had insisted. Yuri had the knife in his hand, and was about to charge the group like a person with no sense of self-preservation, when the whooshing of an arrow by his head made him abandon that plan.  
  


Who the-- oh.  
  


Holy shit.  
  


Mounted on a black horse in front of him was the most handsome man that Yuri had ever seen in his life. Sure, the pool he had to choose from was small and dominated, unfortunately, by Chris, but he happened to guess that this guy was the most handsome man that anyone had ever seen. Tanned skin, black hair silky and styled into an undercut.. brown eyes that could make anyone melt.. those muscular arms, those legs.. damn that horse for blocking the view of his ass.  
  


Right. Those kidnappers probably were more distracted by the fact that he had a bow in his hand and a sword on his hip than the fact that his eyes could convince a dying person to live.  
  


"Unhand the fairy."  
  


Dumbfounded, the men hoisted Yuuri off of the horse. They tossed him down with a thud, two of them hopping onto the horse's back and galloping off without a second glance, the other two running behind them. Well, running was a loose term for one of them. Yuri had a fairly strong set of legs, deceptively so, and had probably vanquished one of that man's testicles back inside of his abdomen.  
  


Looking smug, Yuri took a step toward Yuuri, only to be stopped with a sword under his chin. What was with people trying to scratch up his throat?!  
  


"What's your problem, dude?" Yuri demanded.  
  


"How do I know that you weren't trying to use this fairy for your own selfish wants?"  
  


Yuri blinked. "You mean Yuuri?" he asked, bewildered. "Okay. First, ew. Second, what? Third--"  
  


"Uh, Yuri? Mister Horseman?" Yuuri interrupted. "Could.. one of you untie me? This rope is really uncomfortable..."  
  


Yuri took a step, but their mystery 'savior' dismounted and handed the reins to Yuri. Jaw dropped, he was about to put that stupid, way-too-handsome meddler in his place, when Yuuri muttered out, "Yuri. Be nice."  
  


Huff. Pout. Grumble. Relative silence was the best Yuri could do. If nothing nice could be said, nothing would be said at all.  
  


"Yuri and Yuuri?" the man asked, kneeling to cut Yuuri's ropes. "It's confusing."  
  


"Is not," Yuri defended. "One is longer. Yuri. Yuuuuuuuuri," he exaggerated the difference, arms crossed over his chest, dropping the obedient horse’s reins. “I bet your name’s not any better.”  
  


Finished with freeing the fairy in their midst, the man stood. “My name’s Otabek. Otabek Altin.” The expression on his face told Yuri that the name was supposed to evoke some kind of response.  
  


“...Okay? Cool?”  
  


...Not that kind of response.  
  


“Well, thanks for the help, I guess.” Yuri stopped in his tracks as he looked around their little campsite. “Wait. Wait, shit! Asshole!” he cried in the general direction in which the bandits had fled. “They made off with my pack! It had all of my food in it!”  
  


Otabek blinked. “I have an apple if--”  
  


“Yes, I’m hungry.”  
  


The apple was handed over eagerly. Otabek had hope that, once fed, this blonde-haired boy’s demeanor would match his graceful, attractive appearance.  
  


....Not likely.  
  


“It was supposed to last a week,” Yuri mourned, mouth full of apple. He held it out to Yuuri, letting him take a quick bite, before he resumed attacking the piece of fruit. “What’re we going to do now? I have to get to St. Petersburg!”  
  


Otabek’s heart raced in realization. He wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling creeping up on him, or the inkling that he was about to say the stupidest thing he’d ever say in his life. Or, if he was lucky, maybe it was just gas.  
  


"If you're going to St. Petersburg," Otabek started, reluctant if he even wanted to finish the sentence or not. "I could accompany you." He faltered at Yuri and Yuuri's unimpressed expressions.  
  


"Money isn't an issue."  
  


And Yuri was sold. Boldly, he approached the horse's left side and hoisted himself up. "Okay. I'm ready."  
  


Otabek stared at him. Really, he had nobody to blame but himself. Yuuri giggled a little bit. Yuri was in the process of adjusting his seat and trying to fix his stirrup when Otabek pulled his foot out and used the stirrup to settle behind Yuri. A fierce blush took over the blonde's face, and he was ever grateful that Otabek couldn't see it.  
  


Yuuri could. But Yuuri could be trusted to keep a secret. He walked beside as Otabek let Yuri take control of the mount. Otabek was quickly learning a lesson that Yuuri had accepted a long time ago-- if you let Yuri win, everybody won.  
  


"Why are you going to St. Petersburg?"  
  


"Why all the questions?"  
  


Yuuri looked offended by his friend’s insolence. "Yuri, he's helping us!"  
  


"I don't care," Yuri scoffed.  
  


Yuuri scowled. "Be nice, Yuri."  
  


Without a second's delay, Yuri slid pathetically off of the horse and laid on the ground. Otabek's eyes went wide, and he strongly considered digging his heels into the horse's sides and galloping away as fast as the beast could take him. But, despite all of the flashing, neon warning signs, he was still drawn to the boy, and wanted to stay. Maybe, just maybe, he was craving some kind of excitement? This boy was definitely keeping him on his toes.  
  


"This is your fault," Yuri muttered, face down on the ground. 'Be Good' or 'Be Nice' seemed to be impossible to overcome. And because 'good' and 'nice' were never words that could describe Yuri Plisetsky, the commands basically served as an 'off' switch. He just fell to the ground and stayed there for a while. If he couldn't be kind and sweet, he just wouldn't do anything at all.  
  


Once Yuri was recovered from the command, he picked himself up off of the ground, dusted himself off, and walked over to where Otabek waited, still mounted on the horse. He had, however, moved to the front of the saddle.  
  


“I’ll drive,” he deadpanned, reaching his hand out to give Yuri assistance in re-mounting. Hiding his blush as best he could, he hopped back up and scooted into position behind Otabek, holding his waist loosely. They weren’t going too fast, as Yuuri had to keep up somehow, but Yuri would never admit that it just felt nice to hold onto someone as strong and warm as this young man was. He really, really wouldn’t admit how nice it felt to snuggle his face into his back under the guise of being tired.  


* * *

The day that passed was awkward for everyone involved. Well, awkward for everyone except for Yuri. See, he didn’t sleep well with trees and lumpy packs as pillows. The back of a strong.. Horseman, or whatever Otabek was, was much more comfortable. He knocked out for a nap not even three hours into their excursion. Yuuri and Otabek chatted, but it was polite and forced.  
  


“Is he always so rude?” Otabek asked, looking back at the young man asleep behind him.  
  


Yuuri smiled. “Some people are fighting invisible battles. I try not to worry about it when he is rude.. His heart is good. He just doesn’t know how to express it, I think.”  
  


Otabek hummed. "You aren't wrong. Happiness can never be assumed."  
  


Yuri stirred, bringing one arm from around Otabek's waist to rub at his eyes. He rubbed nonchalantly at the drool on Otabek's shirt.  
  


"How long was I out?"  
  


Yuuri chuckled. "Long enough to miss most of the day."  
  


Otabek looked off into the distance. "I know this place. There is a hotel we could stay at. Do we stop now, or should we press on?"  
  


"I'm hungry."  
  


Yuuri rolled his eyes. "We should probably stop, or we won't hear the end of his hunger."  
  


To be fair, they were all hungry. The loss of their food was one that Yuri and Yuuri felt right in the gut. Yuri maintained that it shouldn't affect Yuuri as badly, as he was magical and had a higher body fat percentage.  
  


"I can't help that I gain weight easily!" Yuuri mourned.  
  


The trio handed the horse off to a stable hand employed by the hotel before being led off to the room. It was spacious, with a main room and a bedroom.  
  


A bedroom with one bed.  
  


"I'll take the couch!" Yuuri volunteered, plopping right down to rest his tired feet. Sure, he was a fairy, and he had more stamina than the average person, but he was tired, too!  
  


And Yuri was pretty sure that Yuuri could tell that he was attracted to Otabek.  
  


Asshole.  
  


Otabek retrieved dinner for the three of them while Yuri and Yuuri settled in. Yuri was seated on the bed, toying with the necklace around his neck upon Otabek's return, running his thumb over the opal and turning it so that it caught the low-burning light.  
  


"Is it special to you?" Otabek asked, handing him a plate with chicken and potatoes. Yuri took it and placed it in his lap, picking at the chicken with his fingers.  
  


"Nah. I just got it," he admitted. "But my grandpa did buy it for me." It wasn't technically a lie, though the curse didn't mean he couldn't lie.  
  


Otabek sat on the edge of the bed, not wanting to invade too much of Yuri's personal space. "It suits you." Overall, it was beautiful. But the stone burned and flashed like fire.  
  


"I'm going to see a fairy," Yuri blurted out. Otabek raised a brow at the non-sequitur. "That's what I'm doing in St. Petersburg."  
  


Oh. "But your friend is a fairy."  
  


"Yeah, a weak one," he scoffed. "Besides, only Victor can undo the spell."  
  


"Spell?"  
  


"Why are you going?"  
  


Otabek could take a hint. That was the end of that conversation. "...You wouldn't understand."  
  


Wouldn't understand? Yuri raised an eyebrow. He was a seventeen year-old boy going to see the fairy that made it so that he had to obey every command thrown at him, casual or sincere.  
  


"Try me."  
  


Otabek released a breath. "You don't know me, do you?" He moved closer and showed Yuri the sapphire-studded ring on his right hand, and the seal that laid beside the stones.  
  


"That's the royal seal." Yuri paused, holding Otabek's much larger hand in both of his. "That means.."  
  


Otabek nodded. "Prince Otabek."  
  


"Well, fuck me."  
  


It was a really good thing that the curse didn't work in reverse.  
  


The prince kept going without acknowledging that comment. "I am supposed to go to St. Petersburg to meet and marry a girl I do not love."  
  


"That sucks."  
  


"Yeah, it does." Closing his eyes, me slowly moved up the bed so he could be closer to the blonde. "It's hard, being forced to do something you don't want to do."  
  


Oh, you sweet summer child.  
  


"Trust me, I know," he grumbled in response. "My whole life has been full of shit I don't want to do."  
  


Otabek turned toward him. "You can't be a day over fifteen, your life can't be that hard."  
  


There was murder in Yuri's green eyes. "I'm seventeen," he corrected through gritted teeth. "Eighteen in a couple of days, actually. And I'm not kidding. You have no clue. You sit in a castle all day and count jewels."  
  


Cracking the closest thing to a smile that Yuri had seen the prince manage, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I hunt. I practice with sword. I learn policy.. nineteen years old, and this is the farthest I've been allowed to go on my own." He sighed. "Father said it's so that I can enjoy my last taste of freedom."  
  


Yuri rolled toward him. "That's bullshit."  
  


"Yeah."  
  


Never before had Yuri been tempted to tell someone about the curse. He'd always been warned against it-- what if someone took advantage and used him as a scapegoat, forced him to commit crime, or something even more terrible? But Otabek didn't seem like the kind that would take advantage. He seemed like he was suffering the exact same curse.. but instead of it being bestowed upon him by magic, it was bestowed upon him by birth. He took in a deep breath and opened his mouth, preparing to tell him the entire truth when...  
  


"You should do what you want to while you have a chance."  
  


Do what you want.  
  


Nobody had ever said that to Yuri, and that was why it didn't even feel like magic was was influencing his moves as he took Otabek's cheek in his hand, crawled on top, and kissed him.  
  


Though shocked, the prince felt his eyes fall shut and his hands fall onto the blonde's body. He stroked the boy's long hair out of his face as they parted with a soft 'pop.' Otabek regarded Yuri like he was the creator of the sun and the moon, eyes full of awe and a hint of confusion.  
  


"What?" Yuri blushed, turning away. "You told me to do what I wanted to do, so I did."  
  


"...Do you want to do it again?"  
  


A moment of consideration. "Yes."  
  


"You can."  
  


Yuri chuckled and grabbed Otabek by the collar, pulling him on top of him and grinning into a heated make-out session that left them both panting and disheveled. 

 

* * *

 

"Ewwww!!" Katsuro cried, giggling and hiding his face in his stuffed toy.  
  


"Alright, alright," Yuri waved, tickling the little boy's armpits. "You'll like the kissing parts one day. Your parents sure do," he grumbled.  
  


Still giggling, Katsuro and Yuri looked up as the bedroom door opened. Otabek paused at the sight in front of him, including the open pizza box taking up his half of the bed.  
  


"Hey."  
  


"Hey, babe," Yuri shrugged casually, deciding that they were done with the pizza and relocated the box to the bedside table. "Katsuro and I were just enjoying a story."  
  


"Oh?" Otabek put his keys on the dresser and walked over to the bed. physically moving Yuri over so that he could lie down beside him.  
  


Katsuro nodded. "Uncle Yuri's a good storyteller!"  
  


Eyebrow raised, Otabek couldn't help but be suspicious. Yuri telling a story to a child? It was likely laced with profanity and disturbing imagery.  
  


Well, he was partially right.  
  


"Mmhm. Where were we?"  
  


"Yuri and Prince Otabek were kissing!"  
  


Otabek's other eyebrow shot up. "Prince Otabek..?" Pause. "Continue." He scooted closer, spooning his boyfriend and sneaking a handful of popcorn.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri didn't have to ask to figure out what had happened between the two of them the next morning. They were shy with one another over breakfast, but wouldn't leave each other's side. He knew better than to ask, though, especially with Otabek being the prince. He didn't know how kind and forgiving of a ruler he was going to be!  
  


Yuri had chickened out of telling Otabek about the curse. He didn't think that Otabek would use it to his advantage, but he thought that it might possibly change his opinion of him. Not that it mattered-- what had happened the night before would never happen again. Otabek was going to get married and rule the country, and Yuri was going to... farm, probably. But he'd do so with the reassurance that he could effectively tell somebody to fuck off.  
  


The three traveled for days, taking turns riding the horse and walking. The horse's name, Yuri had learned, was Aisultan. Yuri didn't mind the animal, until he had mistaken the golden shine of his hair for hay, and had taken a mouthful.  
  


Yuuri would never let him live it down.  
  


Otabek was ever the gentleman, and it pissed Yuri off. Parting ways would be so much easier if he was an asshole. He walked more than any of them, allowing Yuri and Yuuri to ride. Princes were supposed to be self-absorbed. They weren't supposed to sacrifice their feet to save the comfort of someone else. They weren't supposed to spend more money so that the fairy in the party got a bed to sleep in. And princes most definitely weren't supposed to spend their nights making peasants feel special and snuggling with them in a shared bed.  
  


Their last night of travel was depressing. They stayed at a hotel right outside of St. Petersburg. Yuri had spent the day fretting, worrying about how he would approach Victor, how he would demand the curse be lifted.. and how he would live after it. Sure, nobody liked being told what to do all of the time, but Yuri had lived his life obeying every fleeting command thrown in his general direction. What would it feel like to say no? What would it be like, laughing in Chris' face when he called out 'Come here, tell me how sexy I am!'  
  


"I'm going to bed!" Yuuri smiled. "Thank you again, your majesty, for getting me my own room."  
  


Otabek tensed. "You're welcome. Don't call me that, though."  
  


Yuri lifted a brow. "What, don't like to acknowledge your royal birth?"  
  


"I wish I was you."  
  


Yuri couldn't stop the laugh from leaving his lips. It was rich and genuine, tears misting up at the corners of his eyes.  
  


"You don't wish you were me."  
  


Otabek pulled him into the bed, snuggling his face into Yuri's neck. "I do," he insisted. "You're free. You can do whatever you want."  
  


"No, I can't."  
  


"I mean, within reas--"  
  


"No." Yuri was stern. He took Otabek's face in his hands. "I can't."  
  


Otabek went quiet. This was an expression he'd never seen on Yuri's face. He was upset. He looked like he was ready to cry.  
  


"...What's wrong?"  
  


Yuri couldn't bear to look at him, so he didn't. He laid his head over Otabek's heart and nuzzled into his chest.  
  


"I have to obey any command directed at me. Any," he spat, hiding his face in Otabek's shirt. "It's compulsory. I can.. find workarounds, sometimes, but you tell me to jump, and I fucking jump."  
  


Otabek was silent. Yuri expected him to roll away, but instead, he smoothed a hand over his long, blonde hair.  
  


"Why didn't you tell me? I could have.. accidentally..."  
  


"I can't tell anyone." The response was instantaneous. "Can you imagine what some people would have me do..?"  
  


The breath caught in the young prince's chest. "I didn't realize."  
  


"That's the curse I'm asking Victor to lift. I don't want to be the world's bitch anymore."  
  


Otabek nodded, but said nothing, simply running his fingers through Yuri's soft hair. He'd thought he had it so rough, but here was this boy who understood everything far more intimately than he'd imagined. It made him feel almost guilty. He had it easy-- he just had to marry a girl he didn't want to. Yuri's possibility for suffering was endless.  
  


"If.. they can't lift the spell," Otabek began. "You could live with me, if you would like to." He worded it carefully, not wanting to force him to do anything. "You'd never be ordered around in the palace."  
  


Yuri snorted. "Yeah, they'll love me there. A boy the guards can't control? Right." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, I have my grandpa to worry about. He can't even go shopping alone."  
  


Fingers on his chin forced Yuri to look up into soft brown eyes. "I don't want to lose this.."  
  


Yuri pulled away, but resumed his position over Otabek's heart. "...That's selfish. Time to face the music, buddy."  
  


"I don't care that it's selfish. You make me feel like a regular man, and not some.. mythical creature," he sighed.  
  


Yuri traced little circles and swirls over Otabek's chest. "Just go to sleep," he muttered. If he wanted to detach himself from Otabek, he wasn't doing a very good job.

* * *

 

That morning, it was as if the three of them were heading to a funeral. Otabek and Yuri emerged from their shared room, somber and silent. They looked at each other with sad eyes, if they could even bear to offer a glance in the other’s direction. Yuuri, however, didn’t seem to understand the depressing mood. Shouldn’t everybody be happy? Otabek was getting married-- the happiest thing in the world. Yuri was having the curse lifted-- again, happy. And Yuuri was getting to meet Victor, which excited him to no end.  
  


So… why the long faces?  
  


The trio stopped mid-day for a snack break. They weren’t very far from St. Petersburg at all, and the reality of the situation was beginning to weigh on them. By the end of the day, Otabek would be married. Yuri would be free. Yuuri would… lose his mind, or whatever.  
  


And they would all go their separate ways.  
  


While Yuuri ran off to ask for directions, Otabek laid his hand over Yuri’s. Yuri didn’t respond, but also didn’t pull his hand away.  
  


“I won’t do it,” Otabek stated.   
  
  
Yuri stared at him.   
  
  
“I won’t marry her.”   
  
  
“Are you stupid?” Yuri deadpanned. “You’re the goddamned prince.”  
  


“So? I don’t love her. I’ve never met her.”  
  


Yuri crossed his arms. “You can’t just… do whatever you want,” he grumbled, digging his foot into the ground. Otabek’s eyes softened. While Yuuri tended to the horse, Otabek took the time to stroke Yuri’s hair behind his ear and stroke his cheek. Never would Yuri admit that he liked the gesture, enjoyed the affection.  
  


“We have one more stop to make before we worry about me.” Otabek had been with him for this long, he wasn’t going to leave before he could follow through. Really, he was just hoping that seeing Yuri being granted his freedom would inspire him.  
  


Excitedly and with just a little bit of struggle, Yuuri jumped up onto the horse. “Come on, let’s go!”   
  
  
At least someone was eager.  
  


Fairies tended to stick together. They were easy to find, magic permeating the air around their abodes like a forcefield. Two houses stood out among the others in the village. Yuuri picked up on it more than Otabek and Yuri did, practically vibrating with excitement as he dismounted and handed the reins to Otabek.  
  


It was Yuri, though, who stomped up to the door. Yuuri was too anxious and weird-- Victor was sure to slam the door in their face if he did the introduction. Though, Yuri wasn’t any more calm. This was a moment he’d been waiting for since he could remember.  
  


So without even a moment’s hesitation, he knocked.  
  


Silence.  
  


Yuri’s brow furrowed. He knocked again.  
  


Nothing.  
  


“Hello?” he called, peeking into a window and seeing only darkness. “Hello?” he repeated, knocking on the window.  
  


“Open up, you fuck!”  
  


Otabek wrapped his hands around Yuri’s middle, pulling him away from the door before he broke something.  
  


“He’s probably at the market or something,” Yuuri suggested kindly. Yuri tugged free from Otabek’s hold, and collapsed onto the doorstep.  
  


“This is bullshit,” he whined hoarsely. “The one fucking person who can help me, and he had the fucking audacity to leave.”   
  
  
Otabek sat down beside him, offering the comfort of a hand on his shoulder. He pulled it back, however, feeling Yuri curl in on himself.  
  


This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He’d done his suffering. Why did he have to wait longer? Some birthday present this was.  
  


“What’s that racket?”  
  


The trio paused in their mutual wallowing at the appearance of a figure in the doorway of a nearby house. He wasn’t Victor, that was immediately apparent. Victor was legendary for being unfairly handsome. He had silver hair and blue eyes, while this guy… well, his hair was grey, and his eyes were blue, from what Yuri could tell. Sure, ‘handsome’ wasn’t the word that Yuri would choose.. This guy was fat and balding. Maybe the years had just hit him hard?  
  


Ouch.  
  


“Victor,” Yuri roared, pointing at the fairy. “You lift this stupid curse this instant, you bas--”  
  


Otabek clasped a hand over Yuri’s mouth. “....He’d like a curse lifted.”  
  


The man’s face was red with anger. “You think I’m Victor?” he growled. “Always outshone by that brat…” He straightened his clothes. “I am the great fairy, Yakov.”   
  
  
Yuuri’s face lit up. “The Not-So-Great Fairy!”  
  


There was the anger again. “That ungrateful Victor would be nothing without me!”   
  
  
“I don’t care who breaks it,” Yuri snapped. “Just get it off, I can’t live like this! You have no idea what it’s like, having to bend to everyone’s whim, whether you want to or not!” He ignored the hand that Otabek placed on his shoulder. “It’s degrading! It’s humiliating! It’s--”  
  


“Useless,” Yakov shrugged. “I can’t help you.”   
  
  
The color drained out of Yuri’s face.  
  


“Can’t help?” Yuuri asked, filling in for the speechless Yuri and Otabek.  
  


Yakov nodded gravely. “There is nothing I can do for you.”   
  
  
Yuri wanted to fight. He wanted to yell, scream, punch Yakov in the face, break the windows out of Victor’s house..  
  


..But all he managed to do was fall into Otabek’s arms and weep.  
  


Slowly, and without anybody realizing, the door behind them creaked open. Evaluating the scene in front of him, the mysterious figure smiled to himself, running long fingers through silver hair.  
  


“There will be no more tears in front of my house.”  
  


Everything went silent. Yuri stared from his position in Otabek’s arms. Otabek’s eyes widened. Yuuri looked like he was going to pass out.  
  


All of the stories were true. Victor was an ethereal beauty, unlike one any of them had ever seen. Silver was definitely the correct descriptor for his hair, but ‘blue’ was an understatement for his eyes. He was what every fairy dreamed of being and more. Yuri had been so enthralled by this looks that he barely noticed as Victor approached, wiping the tears from his eyes.  
  


“You must be Yuri. I remember you.”  
  


Yuri sniffled. Victor placed his hand over the boy’s heart. “You must be here to have your gift taken back, right?”  
  


Yuri couldn’t talk. He just nodded, still held tight in Otabek’s hold. Fairy or not, Otabek was still leery of Victor for placing the curse in the first place, so he did not want to release Yuri to him so easily.  
  


Victor looked the pair up and down, and his features softened. “Yakov was right. There’s nothing we can do.”  
  


Devastated, Yuri opened his mouth to spout profanities-- but was promptly cut off by Victor’s wide, unique, heart-shaped smile.  
  


“--Because it’s already broken!”   
  
  
“...Fucking excuse me?”  
  


Victor chuckled. “Well, I knew you were going to want the spell lifted at some point, and I knew that you were a firecracker.”  
  


Yuri was going to contest, but even the look of agreement on Otabek’s face silenced him.  
  


“So I thought to myself, ‘why not make it the easiest fix in the world?’ So.. I did!” Victor’s eyes closed. “True love’s kiss breaks the spell.. And Yuri,” he opened his eyes. “The spell was broken before you came.”  
  


Yuuri was the only one able to vocalize his thoughts at that point. “Wait… you two kissed?”  
  


Yuri rolled his eyes. “No, we just slept in the same bed for fun..”  
  


“Kiss again.” The command came from Victor.. But it wasn’t Yuri who leaned in. This time, it was Otabek, cupping the back of Yuri’s head and pulling him in close. Yuri, though very aware of the fact that they were being watched, breathed a sigh of relief into the older boy’s mouth.  
  


Victor clapped joyfully at the scene in front of him. He loved feeling like the good guy when, in reality, he hadn't done anything at all. It was instant gratification!  
  


Digging his heel into the ground, Yuuri wrung his hands into his shirt. He wanted to talk to Victor, ask him about magic, about spells, about the gorgeous glint in his eyes. But it was apparent that he was not going to have the courage to do so-- who ever heard of a wimpy fairy?  
  


“Oh, hello there.”  
  


Victor’s voice cut straight through his anxiety. Victor was talking to him.  
  


“..H-hi!”  
  


Victor smiled to himself. “This may sound forward, but I can feel what you've been trying to gather the courage to say.” He held his hand out. “Why don't we go inside…? I don't think they'll miss us.” He pointed at Otabek and Yuri, who were blatantly making out in front of a mortified Yakov.  
  


“...I'd like that.”

* * *

 

That was the end of the story, right? Yuri was free, Yuuri was with his idol...but what about Otabek? Didn't he deserve a happy ending, too?  
  


The pair of them left Yuuri in Victor’s care. He was in good hands. As they had discussed, lifting Yuri's curse had been the priority-- though Yuri was certainly displeased by the fact that he could have just gone home a few days ago. But the time with his friends was worth it, though he would never admit it.  
  


Part of being a good friend was being supportive, and Yuri knew that Otabek needed him, whether he said anything or not.  
  


“Hey.”  
  


Otabek turned to Yuri when he spoke. He was speechless as, without a word, Yuri tied the necklace he had stolen at the market days ago around his neck.  
  


“Yur--”  
  


Yuri cut him off. “I figured you could have it. It's not my color, and you broke the curse and all..”  
  


“No,” Otabek shook his head. “We broke the curse.”  
  


“Gay.”  
  


Otabek couldn't contain his little chuckle. He led the horse behind him, wanting to head into town as slowly as he could. His father was waiting, along with his bride-to-be. If he could suspend that moment they'd just had, holding Yuri in his arms and experiencing that perfect wash of relief. Instead, he had to walk into his doom, and probably never see him again.  
  


“You can visit,” Otabek suggested. It was the best he could offer.  
  


“That'll go over well,” Yuri snorted. “I'm not even that interesting without the curse, you know. And besides, I can't leave grandpa alone that long.”  
  


Otabek hummed, but knew that protesting would be useless. No matter the argument, Yuri won. It just went that way. He just wanted to enjoy his freedom while he could.  
  


Freedom.  
  


It was just a short walk into the town center. Otabek and Yuri stopped in their tracks, confronted with the sight of the king standing with a beautiful maiden in the town square. They had been waiting, and for quite some time, from the look of it. They had drawn a crowd, of course-- who didn’t want to watch the crown prince of the country get engaged?  
  


While Otabek stood, dumbfounded in the street, Yuri took the horse’s reins from him. He’d been mostly silent, despite his recent victory. He’d promised to see Otabek through meeting his future wife, but the jealousy was crippling. He took the opportunity to look the girl over, wanting to be judgemental without having to open his mouth.  
  


Pretty, but not Otabek’s type. Too stuffy. They'd be a boring couple.  
  


She looked at him from her position on a pedestal, smiling serenely at her husband-to-be. She was the exact opposite of Yuri, Otabek realized. She had plentiful brunette curls, brown eyes… and she smiled willingly. She was dressed up in delicate shades of pink and blue, just as decorated as a woman of royalty should be.  
  


And Otabek felt nothing.    
  
  
“I’m pleased to meet you, your highness,” she bowed. “My name is Selina.”  
  


Ever polite, Otabek approached and kissed her hand. “It’s an honor. Father, may I have a word..?”  
  


“What is it?” the king asked jovially. “Aren’t you excited to meet your bride..?”  
  


It was awkward, being put on the spot right there, in front of everyone. He turned to Yuri, who just raised an eyebrow at him. What the hell was he doing?  
  


Otabek turned back, holding Yuri’s gaze before turning his attention to the king. If the past several days had taught him anything, it was that he had to do what was right. He had to do what made him happy, because not everybody had the same choice.  
  


“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “But I will not marry you.” He ignored the chorus of gasps. “I want to marry him.”  
  


Yuri scowled as Otabek gestured at him. “Idiot,” he scoffed. He briefly glanced at the girl, secretly pleased by the shocked and hurt look on her face. “Forget this. I won’t stand here and let you ruin your life,” he waved, dropping the horse’s reins and walking away, in the direction of home. The horse turned and followed. Yuri paused, turning the horse’s head back toward Otabek. He restarted his dramatic walk-off, stopping only when he could hear the horse following behind him again. He threw up his arms in exasperation.  
  


“Will you take this giant dog?” he gestured wildly.  
  


Through his chuckles, Otabek took the horse by the bridle. He reached out, taking Yuri’s hand, which wasn’t immediately yanked away.  
  


“You have taught me just how precious freedom is,” he whispered. “And this, I have control over. If I have to cast aside my crown, I’ll do it. Because you’re worth it.”  
  


Sniffle.  
  


“Gay.”  
  


The two shared a kiss, much to the shock of everyone around. The former bride-to-be clasped her hand over her mouth, though even she had to admit that they were the most adorable couple in the whole world.  
  


“One problem,” Yuri pointed out. “We’ve only known each other for three days.”  
  


Otabek softened. “If you’d give me the chance, I’d like to get to know you so much better.”  
  


Yuri contemplated. “...On one condition…”  
  


Never before had the world seen such a magnificent couple. Yuri and Otabek showed the world the meaning of love, in their own little way. Otabek had not been forced to give up the crown. In fact, the king had commended his son’s determination and loyalty.  
  


Yuri lived in the castle with Otabek. Otabek would be king one day, and Yuri… well, they hadn’t picked a title yet, ‘Queen’ had been swiftly vetoed, as had ‘Supreme Overlord.’ They’d come to an agreement one day..  
  


It hadn’t taken any convincing to bring Nikolai into the palace. He was proving a valuable asset, telling Otabek tales of farm life and embarrassing stories about Yuri as a baby.  
  


“It is ironic, though,” he pointed out. “He started out life taking orders… and now, he’s giving them!” A somber pause. “...I do not know if this is a good thing…”  
  


But with Otabek by his side and love to balance him out.. Yuri felt free to live happily ever after.  


* * *

Katsuro had been fighting sleep, snuggled lazily against Otabek, who had joined in for the story. It was apparent that he had just wanted to hear the end, eyes fluttering in an effort to stay awake.  
  


“You have to say it,” Otabek whispered, grabbing a stuffed bear off of a table and placing it into the Nikiforov child’s arms.  
  


“Say wha-- oh. Yeah. They all lived happily ever after, the end.”  
  


Katsuro was out within seconds.  
  


Otabek chuckled and pressed a kiss to Yuri’s lips. “Good story.”  
  


“I know.”

* * *

 

Victor and Yuuri came early the next morning to collect their child, Yuuri hoisting him up and holding him tight.  
  


“Did you have a good time with Uncle Yurio and Uncle Otabek?” Yuuri asked, handing his son’s overnight bag to Victor.  
  


Katsuro nodded excitedly. “Yup! Uncle Yurio told a story where he had to listen to everything anyone says!”  
  


“Wow,” Victor laughed. “Sounds like a dream come true.”   
  


Yuuri smiled at the couple, adjusting Katsuro on his hip. “Thanks again for watching him.”  
  


Otabek answered for Yuri. “Any time.”

 

As the couple exited with their son, Yuri stiffened as he heard…

 

“Papa, what’s an asshole?”


End file.
